


The Curse of The Winchester Women

by SlightlyTwistedSilverware, WelshWitch1011



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Curses, Dean/Jo freeform, F/M, Family, Humour, Monster of the Week, Romance, Sibling Bonding, Story Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyTwistedSilverware/pseuds/SlightlyTwistedSilverware, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: Every woman to ever fall in love with a Winchester has paid the ultimate price; her life. Sequel to 'These Three'. AU Season 6.
Relationships: Jo Harvelle/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	1. The Egg-straordinary Case of the Killer Easter Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> Many years ago we were very active authors within the Supernatural fandom. This is a re-post of a fic that was posted over on another fanfiction site. Although the fic had a large following, we found ourselves the target of a considerable amount of abuse from certain sectors of the fandom. One of us received a torrent of private messages from one unstable individual that were purely abusive and threatening - even going as far as to tell us to kill ourselves.  
> We had entire fics stolen and reposted under someone else's pen name, and we had abusive reviews left that weren't even related to the fic and were instead just personal insults and racial abuse. In short, we got fed up, found new fandoms, and the fic was abandoned 6 years ago.  
> However, with the recent quarantine, we've found ourselves once again immersed in the earlier seasons of SPN, and we want to finish this fic as we had previously planned.  
> We're re-editing the old chapters and re-posting here and on the other site, and we will then continue and (hopefully) finish this fic. We hope you enjoy re-reading or discovering this fic for the first time.

Episode 1 – Part 1

Rebuilding the old roadhouse from the ground upwards had proven to be more hard work than attempting to wrangle a pack of rabid werewolves on a full moon. However, as Dean Winchester stared up at the impressive structure that was literally the product of his own two, calloused hands, he could not help the thrill of excitement that coursed through his body. One word lingered on the tip of Dean's tongue but he did not speak it for fear of ruining the moment of mutually observed awe; home.

Snaking his arm around the waist of his girlfriend Jo, a self-satisfied smile tugged at the corners of Dean's lips. Four months of backbreaking labour, repeatedly hitting his own thumb with a rubber mallet, and fretting over the codes for proper roof construction, all suddenly seemed worthwhile as Dean observed his achievement with beer in hand.

Jo followed his gaze and swept her brown eyes appreciatively over the newly assembled structure as Dean handed her the beer bottle. Jo paused before pressing the rim of the bottle to her lips, "Looks good."

Dean nodded, happy to meet her approval. Rebuilding her childhood home had been a labour of love for Jo, and something both Winchester brothers had wanted to be involved with. Ellen Harvelle had been a fleeting yet important figure in their lives and, though the majority of the blood, sweat and tears Dean had poured into the project had been for Jo's benefit, he could not help but hope that Ellen was looking down on them with something that resembled maternal pride.

Dean cast a sideways glance in Jo's direction and noted the furious rate at which she appeared to be blinking, clearly attempting to stem an onslaught of tears. He pulled her closer and rested his chin on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her warm skin.

"Come on, I've got a surprise for you inside."

"Ok, but your pants better not come off when we walk through that door, Winchester," Jo said with a smile, making a stab at humour in an effort to detract attention away from her poorly concealed sorrow. Dean smirked, momentarily surprised that the thought of 'christening' the new bar had not occurred to him, before he shook his head and seized Jo's hand.

"I'm behaving," Dean vowed, taking the lead as they climbed the freshly varnished steps that led to an impressive metal studded, old saloon style door. Jo paused in order to lay her hand against the timber and, before moving so much as an inch further, she shot a glance at the rapidly growing oak sapling that she had planted around five months before.

The still immature tree seemed to have grown a matter of feet since having first been instated in the grounds of Harvelle's Roadhouse, and Jo could not help but think that perhaps her parents had something to do with that. Ellen had indeed been a nurturing soul and so it made sense to Jo that she would continue that legacy even in death. The tree had been planted for Ellen, after all, as a kind of remembrance to the woman when a grave site had proved impossible. On the days where her longing for her mother became too unbearable, Jo would head out into the yard and sit beside the sapling. Sometimes, she would simply draw comfort from resting her hand against the trunk and, other times, she would talk to the tree as though it were Ellen herself. Dean had witnessed this on several occasions but had not interrupted for fear of upsetting Jo. Instead, he had approached his concerns with Sam, who in his characteristic, Oprah-style wisdom had declared that Jo's actions were a natural part of the grieving process for someone who was not quite as emotionally stunted as Dean. Having failed to formulate a suitable retort to that, Dean had simply 'accidentally' knocked Sammy across the back of the head with a plank of two-by-four. However, he had at least been satisfied that Jo was coming to terms with her mother's death.

Dean stepped back as Jo finally crossed the threshold of the bar and he waited with baited breath for her gaze to land upon the object in question. Her eyes widened in surprise and a beaming smile lit up her face. She crossed the floor in barely two strides as she spied the old fashioned upright in the corner of the room and let out a gasp. She slid her palms across the wooden casing of the jukebox in an almost reverent fashion, letting her head drop back against Dean's shoulder as he moved to stand behind her and clasped his hands over her waist.

"Dean... oh my God..."

She grinned in disbelief, reaching up and placing her palm against his cheek. Despite his previous claims of disdain for all things romantic, and his 'man-whoring' past as Jo liked to describe it, the last five months with Dean had allowed Jo to see just how much he had grown emotionally; and exactly how caring and attentive he could be. She suspected that sometimes he even surprised himself.

"F7," Dean directed, responding to her quizzical glance with a grin. Jo pressed the relevant buttons and waited with furrowed brow for the music to start. A whirring noise overtook the silence of the bar before the melody of a ballad filled the room with sudden life.

"Dean," breathed Jo, delight dancing in her eyes as she listened to the lazy voice of Kevin Cronin singing a familiar song. "I can't believe you stooped this low for me."

Dean chuckled and rested one hand on Jo's shoulder, remaining quiet as together they drank in the appearance of the revitalised bar. Rather than attempt to recreate the roadhouse faithfully, Sam and Dean had opted to restore those things they knew that Jo had loved, and improve upon those that she had not. After all, the new roadhouse was the sole property of the surviving Harvelle, and so the ultimate result should be one that pleased her alone.

Dean noted the line of spirit bottles placed in rows behind the mahogany bar that Sam had constructed, and the collection of photographs that Bobby had given to Jo that were now framed and adorning every available wall. The photographs had been left at Bobby's house in a worn album by Ellen for safe keeping. Most depicted the Harvelle family both before and after Jo's birth. Surprisingly, Dean found that he had enjoyed pouring over the images with his girlfriend, who had been reduced to both hysterical laughter and gut-wrenching sobs whilst sorting through them.

An enormous pool table had been reinstated in one corner of the bar along with a dartboard, both of which were brand new and had yet to have a single game played upon them. The tables and chairs had been replaced with high back stools and tables of matching height, which were nailed to the floor for safety reasons. As well as having anticipated the odd demon attack, Dean also knew how hunters got when the fire of too much liquor burned in their bellies, and he had no desire to be rebuilding furniture every fortnight.

Jo turned her head as she felt Dean tap her on the shoulder and she arched an eyebrow in surprise as he opened his arms to gesture that she should dance with him. Although secretly delighted, Jo's smile was suspicious as she moved into Dean's waiting embrace and looped her arms around his neck. Dean ignored the amused smirk and pulled Jo's body flush against his, revelling in the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips as he slipped his hand under her shirt to rest on the small of her back.

Jo giggled in bemusement and pressed her lips to his ear in a whisper, "Christo!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean replied with a smirk. He rolled his eyes, continuing to sway Jo gently to the music. Her head fell to rest against his shoulder and her eyes closed against his ministrations.

"Dean Winchester, I think you're a closet romantic," she accused, smile widening in unabashed delight.

Dean appeared to mull this over momentarily before he brushed a kiss against her cheek and held her that much tighter.

"Only with you sweetheart. Only with you."

"I have to say, I kind of like it," drawled Jo, giggling as Dean twirled her around underneath his arm before pulling her back to his chest. She found that the way her body fit so snugly against his was comforting, as was the feel of his arms around her.

Dean opened his mouth to reply but was immediately silenced when Jo sealed her lips against his own, stealing a kiss that Dean melted so willingly into. Jo flicked the tip of her tongue into his mouth and Dean let out a murmur of both pleasure and contentment. The kiss melted away after several seconds and the couple drew apart, Dean now breathing somewhat heavily.

"Thank you, Dean, for everything you and Sam have done here," said Jo in earnest, eyes sweeping Dean's features. "You don't know how much this all means to me."

Dean simply nodded, finding that the sorrow, pain, and also happiness that flitted across Jo's features in such quick succession was too much for the lump in his throat to overcome.

"There's just one thing missing now," Jo continued, stepping away from Dean but allowing their hands to remain interlaced as the song drew to an end and the jukebox shut itself off.

"Then I guess once the new sign's up, we're open for business," she mused. She scanned the bar, imagining herself standing there behind it, bantering with the regulars and keeping a watchful eye over the patrons, like her mother had done before her.

Dean nodded in silent agreement, allowing her to drag him behind the bar, where she fussed over straightening the photographs on the wall.

"We should probably start looking for someone to take care of this place when we're gone," Dean mused aloud. A new hunt could come up at any given time and so having a caretaker of sorts for the roadhouse would be a prudent idea.

Jo glanced down diplomatically at the ground and avoided his gaze, "Yeah, about that..."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he watched her feign sudden interest in the new flooring. The hesitation he detected in her tone caused his heart to pound with dread.

"You changed your mind about coming on the road with us?" He tried not to sound disappointed and failed miserably.

"No," Jo looked up sharply and shook her head to emphasise the intent behind her words. "No. I just... I don't want to get between you and Sam. You're family and I don't want to get in the way of that."

"Jo, you're family too," said Dean softly, pausing to push a tendril of blonde hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. Jo nodded, chewing on her bottom lip and still wearing a fretful expression that Dean knew no amount of assuaging could dispel.

"Sam loves you," he reiterated, screwing up his nose as he realised that his proclamation had come out all wrong. He amended quickly, "In a strictly platonic kind of ‘guy’ way."

"Smooth," quipped Jo, placing her hands on her hips as she regarded Dean. She was unable to prevent a smile from overtaking her, however. "I want you to be sure it'll work."

"It will work," Dean vowed, stepping closer to Jo and gathering both of her hands up in his own. He raised them to chest height and brushed a kiss against each of her knuckles as he murmured, "What could possibly go wrong?"

x-x-x

Connecticut  
April 18th 2011

With her need for caffeine mounting with every second that ticked by, Julia Harris steered her five year old daughter towards the crowd of assembled children with a firm hand.

"Now do as Mrs. Johnson tells you, okay, sweetie?"

She bent down and adjusted her daughter's party dress, taking a moment to re-tie the sash around her waist. A bright pink basket was held aloft and the little girl grabbed hold of it excitedly before clutching it to her chest with hands that were too small to properly encompass the handle.

"Yes, Mommy," the girl lisped, eyes wide and full of wonder at the prospect of the impending Easter egg hunt. She surveyed the other children carefully before spying one of her classmates and, with a grin, she tore away from her mother. Emma skipped over to join her playmate and the two little girls immediately joined hands. Their simultaneous smiles all but melted Julia's heart, and she returned the gesture as they waved in her direction.

"No candy before lunch, Emma, okay?" she felt compelled to remind her daughter, although the unchecked glee radiating in her expression only served to broaden Julia’s smile.

"Sure, Mommy," Emma agreed, swinging her friend's hand as the children fought to stave off their excitement. They watched impatiently as the final baskets were handed out to their contemporaries.

"I'll be right here, baby girl. Have fun!"

Julia laughed when the proprietor of the hunt unleashed the children upon her extensive grounds and they ran off in zigzagging directions, all eager to uncover the treasures that lay hidden in the garden.

"I don't know how you do it, Beth," Julia admonished, awestruck by the organisational skills of her neighbour and best friend. Beth merely shrugged and eased herself into the adjacent chair, resting her hands on her significantly rounded stomach.

"Oh, I like to stay busy, you know that." Beth dismissed her friend's praise and shot a distracted glance over at her toddler, who sat in a sand box a mere few yards away. "Tyler, what has Mommy told you about eating sand?"

Beth sighed and the two women exchanged amused smiles.

"Do you and Carl ever think about having another one?"

Beth arched an eyebrow, reaching to the table beside her and pouring two tall glasses of homemade lemonade. Julia glanced down discretely at her lap and simply shrugged, smile not quite reaching her eyes as she forced herself to meet Beth's gaze.

"We're just enjoying Emma right now, and Carl works long hours at the bank, and the store's really starting to take off."

She gratefully accepted the lemonade and took a sip of the cool liquid before she gestured over to the back porch of the house.

"You re-upholstered your chairs?"

"Oh yeah," Beth replied, suddenly coming to life with enthusiasm as she began to talk in an almost comically breathy rush about the exquisite fabric she had managed to secure at a bargain price. Julia listened dutifully, nodding and smiling at the appropriate intervals as Beth talked, her hands illustrating her point for her every few seconds. After a while, the two women quickly forgot about the fourteen neighbourhood children that milled around them, becoming fully immersed in their own conversation.

Emma hung slightly back from the other kids, having lost her companion to a little boy several years older than her who already had a basket laden with treats. She was a timid child by nature and often preferred to shy away from larger groups, despite her mother's gentle cajoling. No amount of ballet classes or Girl Guide camps had succeeded in improving the five year old’s confidence, and Emma often found herself more at ease in the company of animals.

Therefore, when the pure, snow-white rabbit hopped into her peripheral vision and reared up on its hind legs, a delighted grin broke out across Emma's face.

"Hey, bunny," the child crooned, bending down and extending her hand towards the rabbit. Its nose and ears both simultaneously twitched, but the animal made no move either towards or away from the girl. Emma held her breath and took a few hesitant steps on her tiptoes towards the creature, which remained rooted to the spot.

The animal scratched at its nose before dropping back onto all fours and bounding toward a large rabbit hole that seemed to appear in the ground as if from nowhere. The rabbit paused and waited for the enthralled child to follow, pink nose twitching in invitation. Emma turned back one final time in the direction of the house and then glanced towards the rabbit. Discarding her basket, she skipped off toward the fluffy creature and giggled as it wiggled its way down into the hole, only to disappear from view.

Suspended on a branch nearby, a blue sash flapped in the breeze whilst brightly coloured Easter eggs lay scattered in the flower borders below; but, little Emma Harris was nowhere to be found.

x-x-x

"Place looks great, Sam. You kids have done a fine job." Bobby eyed the frontage of the roadhouse and tipped his baseball cap in approval. "Ellen would be proud."

Sam nodded, helping manoeuvre Bobby's wheelchair up the ramp that he and Dean had constructed with the old hunter in mind.

"Damn thing," Bobby muttered, sighing as the back wheel caught on the door frame and he slammed his hand down in frustration on the armrest of the chair.

Sam smiled in sympathy, wondering how he would ever cope if he was in Bobby's situation. The man tried not to let the afflictions life had thrown at him get him down yet, every now and then, his anger at his own limitations became very evident, and Sam could hardly blame him. Bobby propelled the chair through the door and stopped dead as he eyed the scene around him before he looked back at Sam in concern.

"Guys?" Sam called, stepping into the roadhouse behind Bobby and surveying the empty bar with suspicion. Something clearly was not right with the picture. When he had left, Dean and Jo had been industriously caught up in hanging light fixtures and setting out glasses, finalising any last minute touches as and when Jo dreamt them up. From the looks of things, their projects had all been hastily abandoned.

"Guys?" he yelled again, frowning when he heard voices emanating from the area behind the bar. A few moments later, a sheepish and somewhat dishevelled Dean appeared. Sam bit back a smirk and simply rewarded his brother with a disdainful sigh - one he found himself repeating when Jo finally emerged, looking equally as guilty as she fastened the top buttons of her shirt.

"We were just uh... we were..." Dean began, mouth gaping as he attempted to formulate a suitable excuse.

"Taking inventory," Jo supplied. She cleared her throat, helpless to escape Sam and Bobby's knowing gazes as a blush rose up her cheeks.

"If that's what you kids are calling it these days," said Bobby gruffly, ignoring the snort that Dean directed at him. "Now, which one of you lazy bums is going to fix your first patron a drink?"

"Sure thing, Bobby," Dean replied, only too glad to leap into action in the wake of being discovered in such a compromising position. Dean was suddenly halted, however, by the splayed palm that Jo thrust into his chest.

"No!" she yelped, her eyes widening as she shook her head at Bobby. "Sorry, but no one gets even a sniff of liquor from this bar before that sign is up."

"Aw, come on, Jo," Bobby griped, rubbing one hand along his grizzled jaw. "A guy could die of thirst over here."

"Water," Jo replied tartly. "You can have a glass of water."

"With whisky in it?" Bobby attempted, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

"With water in it," was Jo's sardonic reply.

"You're a cruel woman, Harvelle," Bobby huffed, rolling his eyes as she slammed a glass of water down on the counter and planted her hands on her hips.

"Ice and lemon?" she demanded, arching an eyebrow as she awaited his response.

Bobby sneered in disgust at the water and gripped the wheels of his chair, moving himself back from the bar and in the direction of one of the empty booths.

"I got something to show you comedians," Bobby announced, producing a rolled up file from inside his jacket pocket. He slammed the bundle of papers down on the table whilst he waited impatiently for the three younger hunters to congregate.

Dean stepped out from behind the bar and immediately Sam averted his gaze.

"Uh... dude." His eyes widened and he cleared his throat, smirking at his brother’s crotch until Dean eventually caught on and zipped up the fly of his jeans.

"Seriously, it's three o'clock in the afternoon," Sam complained, his head turning sharply as Jo sauntered past.

"I get bored easily," she interjected, shrugging as Sam's mouth dropped open. A lascivious smirk settled on Dean's face and he glanced appreciatively in her direction before flashing his brother a smile that was entirely too smug.

"I'm in hell," Sam muttered with a shake of his head. He took a seat opposite his brother and waited for Bobby to explain the details of what he assumed to be a new case.

"Alright, what we got then, Bobby?" Dean pressed, leaning forwards and rubbing his palms together. It had been quite some time since the trio had been on a job. The building of the roadhouse had occupied most of their time recently and, save for a few straightforward salting and burnings, Dean had not seen much action on the hunting front for several months. He was anticipating getting back on the road in a sense, although he was secretly thrilled to suddenly have a home base to share in with both Jo and his brother. It had been assumed rather than discussed at any length that both Sam and Dean would also reside at the roadhouse when not travelling, and that Jo would accompany them on the majority of cases. They had fallen into the agreement easily and all were hopeful that this fact boded well for the success of the venture.

"A five year old girl was snatched in broad daylight from a neighbour's house in Connecticut last Sunday," Bobby explained as he slid the file across the table to Dean, who flipped it open only to be greeted by a newspaper clipping complete with a black and white photograph of a small child.

"That seems more like a matter for the local fuzz than us," Dean replied. He paused to scan the article, which did not immediately set alarm bells ringing in his head. He wondered why it had done so with Bobby but refrained from asking for the moment.

"A second child was nabbed the day before in a town ten miles from that one," Bobby continued before taking a sip of his water, which he found to be tepid, and screwing up his nose. "They were both on Easter egg hunts at the time."

"So there's a lot of sick people out there," Jo said, her tone somewhat bitter as she peered over Dean's shoulder at the photograph of the little girl. She could not begin to imagine what her parents would be going through, and nor did she wish to try. It seemed that the longer Jo lived a hunter's life, the more she became put off the prospect of one day having her own children. She wondered how those hunters who had become parents - including her own - had managed to sleep at night with the knowledge in their heads of everything that was out there, just waiting to snatch up their babies.

"I'm with Jo on this one, there's plenty of perverse sons of bitches just waiting to grab a kid," Dean agreed, shrugging unwillingly as he added, "unfortunately, those guys don't fall within our remit."

Bobby ignored him and tossed a large photograph down on the table. Jo frowned, turning her head from side to side to decipher the image even as suitably horrified expressions formed on both Dean and Sam's faces.

"Is that..." Jo began with clear uncertainty, pausing and glancing up at Sam and Dean in turn as they simultaneously groaned. Sam leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, whilst Dean rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and eyed Bobby with suspicion.

"Please tell me we're not hunting Roger Rabbit?"

Dean stared down at the crime scene photograph, which appeared to show a giant, twelve inch animal track, and he was almost certain that he felt a little bit of his soul die; not giant, stuffed animals… not again.

"I gotta confess," Bobby stated, the hint of a smile twitching beneath his beard, "I've never seen anything quite like this before."

"Cursed wishing well?" Sam inquired with a sigh, shooting Dean a significant glance that only succeeded in leaving Jo baffled. She placed her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow as she turned to survey Dean, who had lowered his head into his hands.

"Only one way to find out," was the muffled reply from Dean, who had evidently been hoping for anything but the case at hand. Jo remained clueless, but she decided that the guys could fill her in on the finer details on the car ride to Connecticut.

"Well, saddle up boys," said Jo, a wide grin breaking out across her face as she clapped Sam on the shoulder in her excitement. "We got us our first case!"


	2. The Egg-straordinary Case of the Killer Easter Bunny - Part 2

Episode 1 – Part 2

Exiting their (unfortunately) shared motel room, Sam slammed the door behind him and held up his hand to his sibling by way of warning.

"I don't wanna talk about it." 

Sam dismissed his brother's attempt at speaking and slipped on a pair of aviators that he produced from his jacket pocket.

"Seriously, dude?" 

Dean guffawed then frowned at his brother, who had almost immediately taken issue with the intended sleeping arrangements. Since the roadhouse had yet to make any money, and all their pooled resources had gone into the rebuilding project, times were hard and corners had to be cut where possible.

"I think Jo and I can control ourselves for the next twenty-four hours. Geez, we're not animals."

Sam shrugged in unwilling agreement, although when Jo emerged from the room mere seconds later he felt his point more than adequately proven. Wearing a near identical pair of sunglasses, and a no-nonsense business suit, Jo strode past the two brothers, leaving Dean gawking open mouthed in her wake.

"Yeah," Sam agreed bitterly. Then, he blew out a grounding breath and patted his brother on the shoulder before striding off after Jo.

For once, Dean allowed Sam to drive his beloved Impala without first voicing his usual string of vehement protests. Sam figured that he was simply hoping to calm the waters following the younger Winchester’s displeasure at arriving at the motel only to discover that the three would be cohabiting in one room. Whilst Sam understood the need for them to veer away from fake credit cards and 'borrowed' cash if they hoped to make a go of the roadhouse business, he wished that on just this one occasion they could make an exception.

The Impala slowed to a crawl along the curb side as they located the Harris house, and Sam brought the car to a standstill in front of a large, white washed colonial; the very epitome of traditional New England architecture.

Jo stared at the house in awe, noting how the entire street seemed like something from a spread in ‘Good Housekeeping’; not that she read ‘Good Housekeeping’, but the Norman Rockwell-esque image conjured up was not lost on her.

"Wow," she breathed, her eyes sweeping the expanse of the grounds. She sighed quietly at the sight of a child's pink tricycle abandoned in the front yard, its handlebars strewn with garish ribbons that she imagined most five year old girls would adore.

"Why do I feel like I'm in an episode of ‘Desperate Housewives’?" 

Sam frowned, watching as blinds and curtains twitched in the windows of neighbouring properties, and passing pedestrians eyed the car with suspicion.

Dean snorted derisively as he opened the car door, "Yeah, well it's better than an episode of ‘The Muppet Show’."

Dean was hoping against hope that their days as professional teddy bear doctors were behind them and, whilst it was a cute story that Jo had enjoyed on the car journey, it was a case that Dean had no desire to repeat. Personally, he preferred it when the targets of their hunts were fanged, scaly or some other description that could be joined comfortably with the word 'terrifying'.

"Right, you guys go talk to the mom and I guess I'll go search for signs of Thumper," Dean said, his distress at the very prospect of encountering a giant rabbit evident. Discreetly, he slipped a handgun into a shoulder holster concealed by his jacket and strode off in the direction of the adjacent home.

Sam arched an eyebrow in questioning as he felt Jo's eyes upon him, and a quick glance found her staring at him with an amused look playing across her features.

"You watch ‘Desperate Housewives’?" she inquired, her head cocked to one side and her arms folded across her white blouse.

Sam wracked his brain, trying to think up an acceptable excuse. When he came up empty handed, he was left with no other option than to deflect Jo’s attention to his brother’s more questionable viewing habits. 

"Dean watches 'Dr. Sexy M.D.'."

Jo appeared to think this over momentarily and then a grin settled on her face as she clambered out of the back of the Impala. 

"I love that show!"

Sam's eyebrows shot up in a mixture of surprise and awe. It often amazed him how similar Jo and Dean were - not merely in temperament, but also in their more general likes and dislikes. Sometimes, he found it hard to believe that a cupid had not been involved in uniting the pair, yet it was times like this that reminded him how likely it was that they had simply fallen for each other.

"Sam? You coming?" 

Jo tapped her foot on the sidewalk with mounting impatience whilst she waited for him to join her. As they strolled across the front yard of the house, picking a path through discarded toys, she elbowed him playfully in the chest. 

"I watch ‘Desperate Housewives’ too. Just don't tell Dean."

She giggled and rolled her eyes at her own embarrassment. Sam could not help but smile at the buoyant energy that radiated from her in waves. He understood why his brother appeared to care for Jo so deeply. Undoubtedly she had been good for Dean, bringing out a softer side that not many were privy to. Sam was at a loss to remember a time when his brother had been happier.

"I'm glad you're hunting with us, Jo," Sam dug his hands in his pockets and stared down at the grass beneath their feet, "and I'm happy Dean's got you. I really am."

A blush darkened her cheeks and she drew to a halt in front of the steps of the porch they approached. 

"Me too." She paused for a moment, appearing to deliberate over her next words, "I know how close you and Dean are, and I want you to know that I'd never try to come between you guys. Whatever Dean and I are, or whatever we will be, he'll always need his brother."

Sam smiled in response - both accepting and believing the vow - before he indicated the door with a slight inclination of his head. Jo nodded, taking a deep breath and then replacing her goofy grin with a more suitably sober expression; it would not do to greet a grieving parent with a less than sympathetic air. First removing his sunglasses and then slipping them into his breast pocket, Sam rapped gently on the front door. Almost immediately it was flung open and a tall, thin woman peered at the strangers on her step with an expression of unbridled hope. Her features suddenly clouded when she failed to recognise either Sam or Jo, but she instead observed their formal attire and professional demeanours. Jo noted that the woman's eyes were puffy and red, and her entire face had the swollen appearance that comes from too much crying. She felt an immediate pang of sympathy for the woman, who seemed so desolate as she stood wringing her hands on her own stoop. 

"Mrs. Harris?" Sam inquired, already reaching into his inner pocket for his much used fake ID. At his side, Jo did likewise. "My name is Special Agent Tyler and this is Agent Perry. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple of questions about your daughter's disappearance, if we may.”

Sam posed the words as more of a statement than a question, giving the impression that there was little room for argument.

"Have you found her?" Mrs. Harris demanded, swinging the front door open wider now and taking a step forwards. Her hair was scraped back into a messy bun, and her heavily rumpled clothes had perhaps been worn and slept in for a number of days.

"Unfortunately, not yet," Jo said, voice soothing. "We'll just take up a few minutes of your time."

The woman nodded, stepping back from the door and ushering them into the house. She led them to the living room and gestured for them to be seated on the couch. She perched on the edge of an armchair and from her sleeve produced a Kleenex, which she began to thread through her fingers. Jo noticed how her hands trembled and she knew immediately that, despite all she had experienced as a hunter, this woman's fear was more palpable than any she had faced herself.

"Mrs. Harris, I know this is difficult," Sam began, unfortunately well-versed in dealing with distraught relatives, "you took your daughter to an Easter egg hunt, is that right?"  
He produced a pad from his pocket and began flicking through pages of hastily scrawled notes.

"Yes," Julia confirmed, her gaze flitting between his face and the tissue in her hands, "my neighbour... she's uh… she's one of my closest friends. She organised an egg hunt for the children."

Her composure slipped and she blinked frantically against the tears that tripped her cheeks. 

"Emma was really excited." Her smile was faint as she recalled her daughter's glee at attending the event, which had ultimately ended in tragedy for them all. 

Jo plucked a second tissue from the box of Kleenex on the table beside her and offered it to the woman. 

"I know this is hard for you, Mrs. Harris, but is there anything unusual you may have noticed lately? A car parked out on the street or a stranger calling at the house? Anything at all that seemed out of the ordinary."

Whilst they were fairly certain the perpetrator was of the supernatural variety, it was also important to rule out crimes of any other nature. 

"No, nothing." Julia dabbed at her eyes and shot Jo a brief smile of gratitude.

"Is there anyone that might take Emma to get back at you or your husband?" Sam pressed, wincing at the apparent insensitivity of his own question, but knowing regardless that it had to be asked. 

Mrs. Harris shook her head vehemently and her gaze drifted to a photograph that sat on the mantle above the fireplace; it featured a blonde haired man cuddling a little girl that Sam recognised as the missing Emma. Jo quickly scanned the room whilst the woman's eyes were averted, noting the neutral decor that was interspaced with numerous child's paintings. A doll lay forgotten on the seat of the armchair and Mrs. Harris reached for it wordlessly, clutching the toy to her chest and carding her fingers through its woollen hair.

"Is Emma the type of child that would wander off?" 

Jo shot a significant glance at Sam as she noted several of the pictures hanging from the walls were crayon drawings of a beaming white rabbit. It towered above the stick figure child depicted at its side. 

"No, she knows not to do that, or to talk to strangers," Mrs. Harris replied with firm confidence resonating in her voice. She crumpled a little as she added, "I just don't understand it. One minute she was there and the next she was gone."

"Did either you or your husband argue with Emma before her disappearance?" Sam continued, drawing a line through each question that Dean had earmarked on the notepad as it was answered.

"Not really." Mrs. Harris shrugged, growing momentarily quiet as she appeared to contemplate something. "There was one thing. It was silly, really. It probably means nothing."

"Go on, Mrs. Harris," Jo encouraged, leaning forward a little and resting a hand on the woman's knee, "anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem, could make all the difference."

"She wanted a pet," Mrs. Harris finally offered with a rueful sigh, "a rabbit. She kept talking about this rabbit that she insisted she played with in the garden. One time she even claimed it came into her room. She wanted to keep it."

"But you never saw a rabbit?" asked Jo, maintaining a neutral expression. Mrs. Harris shook her head and fresh tears sprang to her eyes, brimming over her lids and beginning to trickle down the apples of her cheeks.

"She wouldn't run away," the woman insisted, her voice emerging as a hoarse whisper. "Emma's never been good at making friends and she hates to be alone. I keep thinking of her, out there somewhere, terrified..."

"Would it be okay with you if we took a look around Emma's room?" Sam pressed as he and Jo climbed to their feet to await a response.

"Yes, yes of course," Julia agreed, closing her eyes momentarily as her gaze settled on her daughter's photograph, bringing a lump to her throat. "Second door on the right. I uh... I can't go in there right now, so if you wouldn't mind..."

"Of course, we understand." Jo smiled at her kindly before the two hunters made their way upstairs to the child's bedroom.

Sam opened the door they had been directed to and his eyes immediately widened as he took in the princess themed room, complete with a bubble-gum pink canopy stretched over a four poster bed.

Jo stepped hesitantly over the threshold, taking note of the various toys, games and books scattered around. However, her gaze became solely focused on the photograph frame sitting on a nearby shelf. The word 'family' was etched into the silver gilt, and the picture inside exhibited a new-born Emma, held carefully between her delighted parents. Other photographs were dotted about the shelf, most of Emma at various stages from infancy to present day.

Jo reached out and picked up a pink frame with the words 'my first picture' emblazoned across the top. She narrowed her eyes as she attempted to decipher the sonogram image before quickly returning it to the shelf, suddenly feeling as though she was somehow intruding on the family's privacy.

"This is one pampered little girl," Sam remarked, baffled by the amount of stuff it appeared one five year old could possibly need. Jo nodded in agreement but her gaze was elsewhere as Sam continued to examine the room for any signs of the supernatural. He produced an EMF metre from his jacket and twiddled the various dials. The metre clicked obligingly but the needle refused to jump even a fraction.

Jo crouched down on the floor and began picking at something that had caught her attention, nestled amidst the beige carpet. Frowning, Jo sat back on her heels, holding between her thumb and forefinger a sizeable chunk of snow-white fur.

x-x-x

Dean had entered the yard with ease, having found an open gate to oblige him. Hearing voices in the general vicinity of the front of the house, Dean stuck to the cover of the many trees and leafy foliage that surrounded the perimeter of the property.

His gaze took in the streamers and balloons hanging at intervals, which he surmised were left over from the festivities of the previous weekend. In stark contrast to the pastel coloured crepe paper, crime scene tape hung in tatters across the lawn and Dean sighed heartily as he realised that yet another kid had been robbed of the innocence of childhood. The cases involving children were always the hardest, and he wondered if he would ever feel brave enough to contemplate having a family of his own – especially when he knew all too well what evils awaited them in the world.

He crouched down to the ground as he spied a shattered egg; one that had been hard boiled then painted by an enthusiastic hand. Lifting the fragment to eye level, he examined it carefully before his gaze returned to the ground. Dean soon found that he was able to follow a trail of similarly broken, coloured shell to an adjacent flower border.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" 

With an incredulous groan, he squinted at the enormous imprint in the dirt and, retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, he placed a pen on the ground beside the animal track before he snapped a picture.

The trail ended with no other sign of their suspect, or thankfully the victim. As he made a hasty exit from the backyard, Dean could not shake the feeling that things were about to become a whole lot more surreal than usual.

x-x-x

"So what have we got?" said Dean, biting with vehemence into the cheeseburger he clutched. 

It had been almost two hours since Dean had last eaten and he was famished. Jo wrinkled her nose as a splodge of ketchup plopped onto the evidence spread on the table. Tutting in annoyance, Sam grabbed the photographs and hastily wiped them over with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Two missing kids, a pile of fur, one hell of a footprint, and then nada," Jo recited, raking her fingers through her hair and sighing. She hated it when a case appeared to be getting the better of her and, at present, there was nothing about the hunt that she could make a lick of sense of.

"Sam, we got any common denominators with the kids or the families?" 

Dean shot a glance at Sam, who sat cross-legged on the bed as he hunkered over his laptop. His tongue protruded ever so slightly from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the screen, tapping away at the keys without acknowledging Dean.

"So far, a couple," he eventually admonished, frowning as he wondered how best to narrow down the list of impossibly long, seemingly inconsequential links. "Both female, only children, both born at the same hospital, both A-positive, both..."

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," said Dean through a mouthful of partially chewed burger. Jo reached across the table and snatched a handful of fries before beginning to gnaw on them somewhat thoughtfully. Like Dean, she found that she often worked better on a full stomach.

"And both grabbed from Easter egg hunts so... what the hell does that leave us with?" Jo frowned, screwing up her nose and shaking her head as Dean offered her a bite of his burger. "Has the Easter Bunny gone postal?"

"Don't..." Dean swallowed hard and waved his finger at her in warning. "Don't even kid about stuff like that."

Jo sniggered at his response and peered with interest at the various boxes and wrappers strewn in front of him. She selected an onion ring and bit into it with the kind of relish that her boyfriend could identify with wholeheartedly. 

"So what do we do now? We can't just wait for another kid to go missing."

Dean screwed up the wrapper from his burger and tossed it haphazardly onto the table.

"Well, clearly we're missing something because so far all we got is a couple of AWOL kids and one big ass rabbit. There's gotta be something else."

"You think it's a demon?" 

Sam grimaced, suddenly looking up from his computer. Jo rose from her chair and sidled around the table, absently planting her hand on Dean's shoulder as she paused behind him and stared down at the photographs.

"Question is, what would a demon want with a couple of five year olds?" 

Jo practically shuddered as she considered the possibilities and quickly tried to dismiss the thought from her mind. She accepted the second onion ring that Dean passed back to her then perched herself on the edge of the chair beside him, commandeering a sachet of ketchup to liberally smear over her food. Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he bit back a smile as he watched them; Dean Winchester sharing food? It had to be love.

"I don't know, this all seems too..." Dean trailed off, unable to conjure a suitable adjective to insert into his intended sentence. "I just don't think it's demonic."

Jo paused to turn on the television set that sat atop one of the rickety looking dressers decorating the room. The screen flickered to life after a moment or two, and then a grainy picture appeared. Jo began flipping through the channels, not pausing on any truly long enough to register what was showing.

"We could go on a stake-out?" Sam suggested, glancing up from his laptop. "There's a whole bunch of Easter egg hunts planned in the surrounding towns right up until next Saturday. Surely this thing has to make an appearance at one of them?"

"Right, cos three adults turning up at an Easter egg hunt, with guns, to watch the kiddies have fun; that's not gonna arouse any suspicion," Jo quipped, narrowing her eyes good naturedly at Sam.

"Yeah, maybe not," he chuckled and returned to his research, trying to ignore the mash-up of voices and music that Jo's persistent channel surfing created.

Dean winced as his eyes struggled desperately to focus on the screen, and he glanced somewhat testily at his girlfriend, "Jo... sweetheart, you're making me a little nauseous here."

Jo huffed and finally settled on a local news station whilst Dean reached out to tug her into his lap. He folded his arms around her hips and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek even as she stared, engrossed, at the two news anchors, who appeared to be discussing a fashion show solely for dogs.

"Now that is scary," Jo remarked, gesturing to the screen and looking back at Dean, who nodded his agreement, a serious expression on his face. Seizing the opportunity presented to him now that her attention was upon him, Dean gently cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a lingering kiss.

Sam glanced up from his laptop and rolled his eyes before choosing to avert his gaze to the TV, whilst the couple continued to brazenly flout number one on his 'room sharing ground rules' list. Suddenly, Sam frowned as the news anchor began to relay a breaking story. Interest piqued, he moved across the room to turn up the volume.

"Guys? Uh... guys? We got another one."

Dean and Jo broke away from the clinch almost immediately in order to focus their attention on the screen, and Sam was mildly impressed by their ability to return to professionalism at the drop of a hat. A picture of a toddler flashed up behind the news desk and Jo let out a sad sigh.

"Well that rules out one of the common denominators," she observed as she strained to decipher the anchor woman's words above the hum of the fluorescent lights.

"Two and a half year old Josh Danforth was abducted from his grandmother's house in Bethlehem at ten thirty this morning. Josh and his three older cousins had been enjoying an Easter egg hunt organised by their grandparents when the toddler wandered from view, and suddenly disappeared. Josh was wearing a red t-shirt and a pair of denim dungarees. Police are appealing to anyone in the area who may have information regarding his whereabouts..."

Jo picked up the remote and flicked the power button before the station replayed the emotional plea that Josh's father had recorded earlier that day. She didn’t think she could stand watching another desperate parent break down when they were still so far away from bringing the hunt to an end. 

"So we got a different age, and different gender now," Dean mused, reaching for the notepad and beginning to scrawl down the details of the newest case. "Neither of which fit the previous pattern."

"Except for the Easter egg hunt part," Jo supplied helpfully.

"I'll run the kid’s details and see what else comes up," Sam suggested. He rubbed at his eyes as the words on the laptop screen began to blur and merge together - a sure result of his fatigue. Hunting was indeed an exhausting job, but Sam could not imagine himself doing anything else.

Jo hopped down from Dean's knee and picked up her cell phone, whilst mentally reciting her 'I'm-a-reporter-from-a-local-newspaper' speech in preparation for calling the Bethlehem police department.

Meanwhile, Dean lifted the map from the table and unfolded a further section. He spread it out across the surface, picking up a red pen and marking the site of the most recent abduction with a cross. He stared down at the three seemingly unrelated areas, finding no patterns or central points to draw on.

"You got anything on this new kid yet?" he called before turning to watch his brother's face as Sam flicked with apparent disinterest through the records he had been able to hack.

Sam shrugged, blowing out a breath as he worked to find some key point that tied the last child to the other two.

"Okay, well... aside from the obvious differences, he's not an only child. He's got a little sister... adopted eight months ago," Sam relayed. He paused for a moment, a tenuous link beginning to materialise. "Although it looks like he was born in the same hospital as the other two kids."

"Could be a noteworthy starting point, I guess," Dean replied, his expression one of evident scepticism.

"Why would three kids who lived that far apart all be born in the same hospital?" Jo mused, pausing momentarily in her task of punching a number in to her cell. 

Sam grimaced before searching out the name of the hospital on the Google page before him. As his fingers flew over the laptop keys once again, a pensive expression overtook his features.

"The Hospital of Central Connecticut," he read, drumming his fingertips against his knee. It meant very little to him but experience had taught him that was hardly relevant when it came to matters of the supernatural. 

"Do you think it’s important?" Jo pondered, clearly undecided as to whether the discovery was significant to the case or not. Dean shrugged and Sam failed to respond at all, too preoccupied by the information that filled the screen of the laptop.

"Maybe we should talk to this kid's parents?" Dean finally suggested, and both Sam and Jo nodded their agreement. 

Less than half an hour later, the group were suitably dressed and assembled at the Impala, ready to pursue their next potential lead.

x-x-x

"Mrs. Danforth, is there anything you can tell us that might help us locate your son?" Dean pressed, wincing when his question only provoked a further onslaught of tears from the already sobbing mother.

"We've told you Agent... uh..." Adam Danforth faltered, his mind far too overcome with concern for his child to have retained the names of the two FBI agents that had appeared on the doorstep without warning.

"Grant,” Dean supplied. He smiled somewhat apologetically at the man as he handed his wife a fresh tissue then curled his arm around her shoulder. She seemed to melt into him, her distress rendering her limp and boneless. 

"Agent Grant, like I said, we haven't noticed anything unusual; no cars, no strangers, no calls..." the man paused, sucking in a deep breath as he glanced down at the baby girl on his knee. "Do you think our son is still alive?"

Dean directed a helpless glance at Jo, and she shook herself from her own maudlin thoughts to nod with more confidence than she felt at the grieving father. 

"We're doing everything we can, Mr. Danforth."

It wasn’t strictly an answer to his question but it was all that Jo could supply without telling an outright lie. The truth was, with no potential suspects or ID on their monster, the hunters could be certain of nothing. 

"He was so excited to be a big brother," Mrs. Danforth wept, reaching out and smoothing a hand over the baby's hair. "We'd given up hope of having another child of our own and... he was thrilled when we brought Megan home."

"It's okay, Laura." Adam Danforth tugged his wife closer, directing his unflinching gaze to Dean and Jo before he continued, "Agents, is there anything else you need from us? I think my wife could use a lie down."

"No, we're done here," Dean nodded, climbing to his feet and slipping his notebook into his jacket pocket.

Frowning suddenly, Jo shook her head and reached out to lay a restraining but gentle hand on Mr. Danforth’s arm. 

"Wait, I'm sorry... Josh isn't adopted?"

"No," Laura breathed, still dabbing at her eyes, "we went through IVF. Why? Could that be important?"

"Thank you for your time, we'll be in touch real soon," Jo said, offering the parents the most reassuring smile in her repertoire before she and Dean left the house to head back towards the waiting Impala.

"What are you thinking?" Dean pressed, his voice low to save being overheard by the numerous neighbours who had appeared in their gardens shortly after the 'agents' had arrived. Some were feigning a sudden keen interest in gardening whilst one had been leafing through the same pile of mail for ten minutes straight.

"Not entirely sure myself yet," muttered Jo, slipping her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose and sliding into the front passenger seat of the Impala with some difficulty given the pencil skirt she wore. "I think that maybe we should check out the IVF thing, though."

"How come?" 

Dean slipped into the driver's seat and loosened his tie with a loud sigh of relief. He hated formal wear with a passion - no exceptions. 

"The Hospital of Central Connecticut has one of the largest fertility clinics in the country. Despite the distances they lived from the hospital, all these kids were born there. I think maybe this is our link," Jo said, tentative enthusiasm mounting in her tone. 

She grinned as the Impala pulled away from the curb and the assembled neighbours began to drift back inside their homes, disappointed that the drama was over. If her hunch was correct, then they had just stumbled upon their very first clue.

x-x-x

Sam looked up from the computer screen and groaned irritably at his brother.

"Would you stop that?" he pleaded, gesturing to the knife Dean tapped repeatedly on the edge of the table.

"You in?" 

Dean arched an eyebrow, impatient and wondering how long it was going to take Sam to hack into the various medical files they needed. Time was of the essence and, with every second that passed, Dean knew the chances of finding all three children alive and well were dwindling.

"Dean, this is a little more sophisticated than hacking Facebook, okay?" 

Sam widened his eyes to emphasise his point. He nodded over toward Jo, who was sitting crossed-legged on the floor, busily trawling through a book of folklore in an attempt to identify what kind of creature they might be dealing with.

"Help Jo with the research or something..." he suggested. Anything to stop his brother breathing down his neck.

"Crack a book, pumpkin," Jo chuckled, not lifting her gaze from the passage she was reading as she tossed a heavy book on the floor at Dean’s feet. He huffed in an extremely pained manner but reached for the book nonetheless. However, he couldn’t resist sneering and blowing imaginary dust from the front cover as he hefted it into his lap.

"Cos I'm sure we'll find plenty of references to large, child-eating bunnies," Dean griped under his breath, ignoring the glare that Jo directed at him.

"Aha!" Sam cried, his cheeks colouring somewhat as he realised that his cry of triumph had been a little more exuberant than he was hoping for. "I cracked it. And from the looks of things here, the Houser, Harris and Danforth families were all patients of one Dr. Lilia Torese."

"So we have our link," Dean said, shooting Jo a somewhat impressed glance, which she responded to with a grin. "Not just a pretty face, Joanna."

"Watch it, Winchester," retorted Jo, leaping nimbly to her feet and joining Sam at the laptop.

"This woman has over two hundred patients," Sam murmured, clearly dismayed. "How the hell are we supposed to tell which one could be next?"

Dean's brow furrowed and Jo adopted a similarly thoughtful stance, the room falling silent whilst the three hunters contemplated their next predicament.

"Well, we can discount the, ya know, fetuses," Jo stated, breaking the silence. Sam and Dean stared at her in unison, and her cheeks flushed red.

"I guess we could focus on kids within a twenty mile radius of the last abduction. Maybe between the ages of two and five?” Dean suggested, slapping Sam on the shoulder and earning himself an irritated glare.

Sam punched a number of keys and, after a few minutes, the list had been narrowed down to approximately thirty potential victims. Dean puffed out a breath, Jo rolled her eyes, and Sam groaned.

"Oh, I got it!" Bouncing on her heels in excitement and gesturing to the computer screen, Jo added, "Take out anyone who didn't list their religion as Christian. They probably won't be going to any Easter egg hunts, right?"

Dean and Sam exchanged dubious looks, but the younger Winchester typed in the relevant search criteria anyway, instantly banishing another fourteen names from the list; Jo’s grin was suitably smug.

"Great, only sixteen houses left to stake-out," Dean growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Silence once more descended, an impasse having been reached. 

"Better than thirty," Jo chimed in eventually. When she folded her arms and winced somewhat comically at the screen, her stance almost perfectly mirrored that of her boyfriend.

"Maybe if I search for families with one biological child and take out multiple births?" Sam pondered. He was hardly impressed with his own reasoning, if he was being truthful, but he figured they were clutching at proverbial straws anyway.

"Knock yourself out, Sammy," Dean said with a careless but sceptical shrug. However, he blinked in surprise as the computer screen reloaded and rewarded them with a new list that consisted of merely three names.

"And all conveniently located within a five mile radius," Jo observed, pursing her lips at the screen and nodding her approval. 

Sam sat back in his chair and frowned, wondering if they really could have gotten so lucky in their search. He sincerely doubted that, somehow; there would undoubtedly be some form of nasty surprise lurking just around the corner.

"So which one do we pick?" Dean pressed, reading over the three names in an effort to commit them to memory. "We can't waltz up to the front door and ask what their holiday plans are."

"That's exactly what we're gonna do, Dean-o," Jo gasped, her eyes gleaming as the bones of a plan began to take shape in her mind. 

Sam and Dean exchanged tentative glances but, they knew that, once Jo Harvelle had gotten started there was no stopping her.

x-x-x

That same evening, Dean swung by all three addresses on the list in an effort to gauge whether their services might be required. Jo's reasoning was that, during the holiday period many families took off visiting and, since the abductions were confined to a specific area, they could rule out any couple that had gone away. 

The first house had proven to be deserted, and when Dean had questioned the neighbours he had discovered that the Taylors had indeed gone to New York for the holiday period. He crossed them off the proverbial list and moved onto the next house, which was a modest, two storey belonging to the Lindz family. A 'for sale' sign dominated the front yard, and Dean maintained watch for two straight hours until he was rewarded with a glimpse of a heavily pregnant Mrs. Lindz serving up dinner to her husband and young son in the dining room. 

That left only one possible victim. To claim that Dean was relieved to have narrowed the search down so significantly was an understatement to say the least.


	3. The Egg-straordinary Case of the Killer Easter Bunny - Part 3

Episode 1 - Part 3

"I can't believe you made me wear this." 

Dean glowered at Jo, jamming his finger down the collar of the pale blue shirt he wore, and yanking it away from his throat.

"Would you quit fidgeting?" 

She slapped his hand away and readjusted the sweater he was sporting over it.

"Admit it, you're enjoying this." Dean's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched Jo pick invisible lint from the fabric.

"Oh, please," Jo guffawed, gesturing down to her own outfit with an arched eyebrow that more than conveyed her disdain. "I look just as much of a dork as you do, Dean."

Dean shrugged and swept his eyes over Jo’s dress; the red rose print of the fabric was accentuated with a matching bolero cardigan, and a pair of red stiletto heels completed the outfit.

"I think you look kind of hot," Dean stated, chuckling as Jo rolled her eyes at him then slipped her arm through his. She began to lead him up the path of the large Victorian house they had been loitering outside of.

"You remember our cover story?" she checked, sighing as she tugged his hands away from his collar for what felt like the hundredth time, and poked out her tongue at him as he swatted back at her.

Dean barely had a chance to respond before the front door was thrown wide open to reveal a grinning, middle aged man wearing the most hideous chequered sweater Dean had ever laid eyes on. Suddenly, he was filled with gratitude towards Jo for the outfit she had selected for him; things could undoubtedly have been so much worse.

"Hi, we're the Millers," Dean said, plastering a saccharine smile on his face and offering his hand to the man.

"George Atwaiter," the guy replied, taking Dean's hand in his own but keeping his gaze trained upon Jo, who cut a pretty figure in her dress. Dean barely resisted the urge to laugh, wondering if the man before him would ever guess that the woman he was making goo-goo eyes at could take him apart in less than a minute. He assumed not, and simply wrapped his arm around Jo's waist in a faintly protective manner.

"I'm Nick and this is Jessica," said Dean, unable to resist slipping a weak joke into the conversation. Jo dug her elbow discreetly into his ribs but Dean's grin only widened. "We're buying number ninety-two in a couple of weeks, and our new neighbour suggested that we stop by to introduce ourselves."

"Oh, well, that's great. Come on in." George smiled widely, ushering Dean and Jo inside as he gestured through the house. "You're very welcome to join us, we're just having a few friends over, so come on out and meet everyone. My wife Jeannie has organised an Easter egg hunt for the kids, but I'm sure she'll be thrilled to meet the new neighbours."

George paused then suddenly glanced back at the couple almost thoughtfully.

"Do you guys have kids? They're welcome to come in too. The more the merrier."

Dean shook his head and smiled, "Oh, no... no kids yet." 

He shot Jo a faux sentimental glance and patted her stomach as he added, "But we're working on it. Right, sweetheart?"

Their host nodded, exchanging a 'boy's club' chuckle with Dean before he led them out to the garden. Dean yelped and gritted his teeth as the heel of Jo's stiletto was ruthlessly stamped into his foot, warning him that he was going to pay for his comment later on.

"Keep moving, Winchester," Jo hissed. 

She couldn’t help but sigh as she watched him do his best to wipe all traces of the amused smirk from his features. They followed George out into the yard, their eyes widening as they observed the thirty or so people that milled about it, more than comfortably due to its size. Glasses of champagne and trays of canapés were being offered around by teenagers wearing dinner dress, and Dean barely refrained from snorting derisively at the stuffiness of it all.

"First thing's first, we keep a low profile and we find the Greysons," Jo suggested, referencing the remaining family on their list. "If their kid is next then it’ll go down here for sure."

Upon arriving outside the Greysons house that morning - in order to determine whether or not they were indeed still in town - Dean had at once noted the flyers detailing the neighbourhood Easter egg hunt. He had scoffed, utterly irritated by the clichéd domesticity of it all, and left after swiping a flyer from the nearest lamppost. The resulting plan of action had been hastily thrown together, and all three of the hunters were concerned about their chance of success. Quite simply, Dean and Jo would keep an eye on the child for the duration of the party whilst Sam loitered outside the grounds with weapons, ready to back the couple up when required. Dean had momentarily contemplated what kind of weapon might be required to waste a humongous rodent, but he had decided that a couple of rounds of buckshot in its fluffy ass would more than likely suffice. They were still drawing a relative blank as to what the creature could potentially be, and so they had decided that the best course of action would be to set eyes on it themselves before attempting to identify it.

"We should probably... mingle," Dean stated, the disinterest more than evident in his expression. 

He eyed an approaching waiter, who balanced a platter of tiny hors d'oeuvres on one hand. Arching an eyebrow, Dean plucked something resembling a small pancake off the tray and popped it whole into his mouth. Jo smiled, tossing her head in mock despair when his eyes lit up at the apparent taste sensation.

"They're delicious!" he enthused, decision made to lie in wait for the waiter to make another lap of the garden.

"Dean, we're supposed to be on the look-out for a big-ass bunny, not mini blintzes," Jo chuckled as she scooped two glasses of champagne from another tray and handed him one.

"You know what those things are?" He raised both eyebrows, clearly hopeful for a little Harvelle home cooking. "Can we get the recipe?"

Jo laughed and took a sip of her champagne, shaking her head in amusement whilst she kept a watchful eye on the group of kids being assembled next to one of the tables.

"I think the festivities are about to begin." 

Jo motioned to the children with a jerk of her head and Dean nonchalantly shot a glance in the same direction. He raised his glass of champagne to his lips and took a long, deep sip that evoked a splutter and a grimace.

"Never did like this stuff," he complained before tipping the champagne into the bushes behind him, and then placing the empty flute onto a picnic table.

"So how do we do this?" Dean pondered, completely at a loss as to how to make tailing a bunch of kids on an Easter egg hunt appear innocent. "Maybe you should go. You know, play with the kids or get involved or something?"

"Me?" Jo squeaked, utterly horrified at the prospect of facing the now rampant children. "Why me? I don't know the first thing about kids!"

"Yeah but you're... you know..." Dean trailed off as Jo's eyes blazed. Casually, he scuffed the ground with the toe of his shoe whilst Jo stood glowering at him, hands planted on her hips.

"Because I'm what, Dean? Because I'm a woman?" she demanded, caustically.

"No?" Dean attempted, wincing when he realised nothing he could say was going to get him out of the proverbial hole he was steadily digging for himself. He smiled affably and shrugged, "What, you don't like kids?"

Dean elbowed Jo playfully, although he continued to eye her with slight suspicion. Jo frowned when she noted something akin to concern flash across his features. Whilst Dean was not entirely sure that raising a family and hunting was a viable possibility, he was somewhat disappointed to learn that Jo might not see children as an option at all.

"I didn't say that, I said that I don't know what to do with them. I've never been around kids, Dean. They... they just..." she paused, taking a sip of champagne to buy herself extra time to contemplate an answer. As an only child herself, Jo’s exposure to kids had been limited to classmates and their siblings, none of whom she had been particularly close to.

Dean nodded in sudden understanding, crossing his arms over his chest as he teased, "You're afraid of them. You're afraid of a bunch of four year olds."

"Frankly, yeah," she said with an unapologetic shrug, "so, if you want to play Mary Poppins, knock yourself out. I'll stay here. I guess the whole 'mommy' gene bypassed me."

Jo huffed and deliberately avoided his gaze, pretending to scan the back yard intently even as she felt Dean’s analytical gaze pinning her in place.

"Nope, I don't buy that." He shook his head in dismissal of the claim, finally unfolding his arms and then jamming his hands into his pockets.

"Whatever," Jo replied almost tartly. She had known Dean Winchester long enough to realise that arguing with him rarely proved fruitful, and there were presently more important matters to focus on. 

"I don't," Dean reiterated. Abruptly, he seized Jo's hand, giving her little opportunity to protest, and began to tug her in the direction of the waiting children, who were shrieking with laughter at something the hostess had said. The woman crouched low as she spoke to each child, offering them a smile that exhibited her true delight at the joy reflected on their faces. Jo felt her stomach clench and dug her heels into the ground defiantly, all the while shaking her head as Dean continued to haul her with relative ease towards her doom.

"Hey there, my wife Jessica was wondering if you needed a hand," Dean said, beaming at the woman who was distributing baskets. "She just loves kids."

"Oh, that would be super!" the woman - presumably George's wife - agreed with a vehement nod that sent her corkscrew curls bouncing around her cheeks.

"Dean!" Jo hissed, clawing at his hand in desperation as Dean prepared to turn on his heels and walk away. He wore a smug grin that Jo dearly would have loved to punch right off his face. However, there were children in the vicinity and, the one thing Jo did know was that, violence was generally considered unsuitable around them.

"I can't stay," Dean muttered, eyes gleaming with triumph, "I'm a dude. That would look all kids of odd. We need to blend in."

Although he may well have had a valid point, Jo shot Dean a glare that indicated they would be discussing the matter at a later date. She plastered a suitably fake smile on her face as Jeannie passed her a collection of baskets and instructed Jo to hand them out to the waiting participants.

"Uh... here you go, sweetie." Jo offered a basket to a small boy, her eyes widening in surprise as he flung it back at her with a thoroughly outraged yelp.

"That's pink! I'm a boy!" he defended, his glare near menacing. Jo merely smiled by way of apology.

"Oh, right... sorry," she amended, handing him a blue basket, which he accepted grudgingly.

Jo's back stiffened in horror when she was grabbed around the leg. A quick downward glance revealed her attacker to be a small girl, who attached herself to Jo's calf with a ferocious grip.

"Hi," the little girl grinned at her, blonde bunches bobbing as she let out a giggle. She showed no indication that she was ready to release her captive, and Jo wondered if it would be considered mean to attempt to forcibly disentangle herself.

"Hi," Jo managed to choke out in response. Jeannie smiled and patted the girl on the head, although she made no attempt to intervene and rescue Jo from her new best friend.

Almost immediately, Jo found her thoughts drifting to her own mother, who had always been so seemingly at ease in the presence of children. Ellen had once joked that kids could smell fear and, now that she thought about it, Jo wondered if her mom had perhaps been correct. She imagined Ellen watching her now, wearing her widest smile and finding real mirth in Jo's unease. Straightening up, Jo decided to meet the task head on, the way her mother would have. 

"What's your name?" Jo enquired, hesitantly bending down to the child in order to prise her arms away, gently but firmly. Instead, Jo placed a wicker basket in her chubby hands - an action which received an excited gasp as a reward.

"Molly," the child replied, not missing a beat before she pressed, "what's your name?"

"Jessica," Jo answered, managing to resist the urge to roll her eyes at Dean's creative use of aliases. She shot her boyfriend a glare, which he responded to with a tiny wave.

"I like your shoes," Molly said, pointing at Jo's heels, which she had to admit herself were the one saving grace of the entire outfit.

"You do?" Jo laughed as Molly hugged the basket to her chest and nodded vehemently.

"Yep, red's my favourite colour," Molly informed her, reaching up a hand to Jo as Jeannie begin to lead the children off. A second child ran up to seize Jo's free hand as she followed after the crowd, although Jo could not help but smile at the buoyant grins of the two girls, who were propelling her toward their highly anticipated treasures.

Dean smirked, nodding at Jo in approval despite the fact that she rolled her eyes at him and determinedly bit back the smile that threatened to betray her. He was going to be unbearable after this, Jo decided.

Dean watched his girlfriend in amusement, drinking in the sight of her floral dress and altogether prim appearance, combined with the chattering rug rats she wrangled in each hand. It was a strangely appealing picture, and he cleared his throat half in alarm at his own errant thoughts.

x-x-x

Sam had made it around to the back of the property without difficulty, thanks to the line of trees that surrounded the fence. He had favoured a handgun on this instance, reasoning that it would be far easier to conceal from civilians than his usual shotgun. Sam hoped that the weapon would do the job just as well.

He found a gap in the fence after walking a distance, and lowered himself down to it. Tucking his body out of view, Sam poked his head through the hole in order to survey the garden. A copse of bushes concealed his head from sight, but they were nowhere near dense enough to prevent Sam from being able to view the garden.

People dressed in their spring finery milled about the yard, sipping champagne from crystal flutes, eating finger foods that contained far too much pesto for Sam's liking, and generally chit-chatting about topics like the stock market; Sam was loathed to admit that, once upon a time, he had coveted this kind of lifestyle. However, given the years of hunting experience under his belt, Sam could not imagine anything more soul destroying now. 

Hearing a voice he recognised, Sam blinked in disbelief as he watched a line of children scurry past. The last two girls held tightly onto Jo's hands as they chattered and skipped by her side.

"Whoa." 

Sam furrowed his brow, snickering to himself as he spied on Jo in what appeared to be full Maria Von Trapp mode. Stifling further laughter, he pressed himself back beneath the undergrowth and waited for their furry suspect to make an appearance. He could only assume that a six foot rabbit would be pretty hard to miss.

Jo stopped in her tracks as the sound of a woman's voice halted the dark haired child beside her. The girl spun around as the woman that Jo assumed to be her mother appeared, flashing an almost grateful smile when she realised her child’s hand was ensconced safely within Jo’s. 

"Amy, don't you run off, do you hear me?" the woman instructed, her tone serious yet brimming with maternal pride. 

"Yes, ma'am," the little girl vowed, although she grinned as she spotted a brightly coloured egg hidden beside a planter. Without a further word, she dragged Jo away in haste to claim the prize.

"She has a tendency to wander off," Amy's mother called out, watching her daughter closely, though the child remained oblivious to any concern.

"It's fine. I won't let her out of my sight," Jo promised, offering a smile to reinforce her assurances. She watched as the woman made her way back towards the refreshments table, soon becoming engaged in conversation with a group of friends, and consequently forgetting her apprehension. 

"I got another one!" Amy cheered, dropping the egg into her basket, where it rolled into place beside the one that Jo had already ferreted out for the child. "We’re gonna get lots."

"You sure are," Jo agreed, eyes sweeping the crowds of children constantly as she conducted mental head counts to ensure they were all accounted for. As of yet, nothing appeared to be amiss, but she couldn’t dispel the anxiety that weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. Jo jumped a little when Molly released her hand and suddenly tore off across the yard. However, her foot caught on an unseen hazard in the grass and the child tumbled to the ground, immediately dissolving into tears.

Jo's head whipped back and forth as she desperately attempted to locate a more suitable adult than herself to comfort the child - or, better yet, Molly's mother. When nobody rushed to her aid, assuming her capable enough to handle the crisis, Jo approached the wailing girl.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Molly reached out toward Jo and waggled her fingers in an instruction to be picked up. Jo chewed hesitantly on her bottom lip then released Amy's hand so as to scoop up the other child. Molly looped her arms around Jo's neck and pressed her face into her collarbone, sniffling as she took solace in the much needed warmth of an embrace.

Jo hugged Molly to her chest, rubbing her back and whispering soothingly, although ever conscious that she should be watching the hordes of other children who remained oblivious to the danger.

"It's okay," Jo assured the child, feeling the grip around her neck tighten. "It's okay, sweetie. How about we go find more eggs, huh?"

Jo glanced down at her side and an instant wave of nausea rolled over her as she realised that Amy was nowhere to be found. Scanning the undergrowth, she called out, carrying Molly along in her arms as, with mounting desperation, she attempted to locate the missing child.

x-x-x

The tiny, white rabbit had appeared from nowhere but Amy had spotted it at once; as had Sam Winchester, from his position behind the fence panels. Sam groaned inwardly as the child began to approach the animal, which reared onto its hind legs before lolloping off in the opposition direction to Jo.

The hunter was busy comforting another child, who appeared to be only superficially hurt, and Sam cursed the rather sudden and inconvenient appearance of Jo's maternal instincts.

"Pssst," Sam hissed, cupping his hand around his mouth to signal Jo, who appeared stricken now that she had finally noticed the lost child. Sam recoiled as, suddenly, a pair of small eyes thrust themselves into his face.

The boy stared at Sam for several seconds, confusion registering upon his features, before he shrugged and bent down to pick up the foil wrapped egg that had caught his attention in the first place.

"Are you playing hide and seek?" the child finally asked. Mercifully, he kept his voice low, as though afraid he would otherwise give away Sam's position.

Sam nodded and mimed a shushing gesture, pressing his finger to his lips. The kid simply shrugged and then bolted, no longer interested in the slightest. Sam called out to Jo once again, relieved when she not only heard him but also simultaneously spotted the rabbit.

"Amy?" Jo yelled, placing Molly back on her feet and directing the child to walk beside her.

"A bunny rabbit!" 

Molly's eyes widened in excitement and she made an attempt to release Jo's hand. A small pout formed on her lips as Jo shook her head. She found herself contemplating picking the child up again; an unusually protective gesture but perhaps a necessary one in the circumstances.

Jo held Molly's hand in a vice-like grip as she stalked after Amy, who was almost within reach. Amy ambled a few feet behind the rabbit, which appeared to be leading her to a hole hidden beneath a row of trees.

"Oh, crap." 

Jo's eyes grew as wide as saucers as the rabbit turned, and within seconds had grown to a height that rivalled Sam's.

Molly gasped beside her, arm shooting out to point at Jo as she accused, "You said a bad word!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Jo amended, smiling to the best of her ability as Molly nodded. She was relieved to see Dean striding towards her, his hand buried within his jacket, where he had concealed his gun. 

"Hey Molly, I think I saw a heap of eggs over the other side of the garden, right where the dessert table is. Why don't you see how many you can find whilst I get Amy?"

Molly gasped - all reprimand for Jo forgotten - as she ran full pelt towards the laden dessert table, her eggs bouncing in her basket.

"Holy..." Dean muttered, drawing up alongside Jo and taking in the sight of the gigantic rabbit. The hunters and their prey had ventured into a secluded section of the garden that was shielded from view by all manner of trees and hedges. Dean shot a glance around to see if anyone had noticed the bizarre gatecrasher, and was relieved to see Sam jogging towards them, having climbed through another, larger hole in the fence.

"Amy..." Jo called, approaching the child somewhat hesitantly. The little girl stared transfixed at the rabbit, which made no threatening movements for the moment. It simply cocked its head and stared at Jo, both ears standing erect as though it were listening.

"Come here, sweetheart," Jo coaxed, extending one arm to the child, who seemed not to have registered Jo's cry at all.

"It's the Easter bunny!" Amy whispered, her head tilted back as she gazed in awe at the rabbit.

"No, no Amy. That is not the Easter bunny. That's a very, very, bad bunny," Dean said urgently, watching with baited breath as Jo edged closer to her charge. Just as it seemed that Amy was within reach of Jo's outstretched hand, the rabbit disappeared down the hole and the girl took off in a sprint after it.

"Amy, no!" Jo yelled, pursuing the kid without hesitation, Sam and Dean mere seconds behind.

Cursing when her heels spiked the dew dampened ground, Jo kicked off the shoes and tossed them to the ground. She arrived at the edge of the rabbit hole mere seconds after the little girl crawled in, and promptly disappeared. Jo paused for a split second before taking a deep breath and following after.

"Jo!" Dean screamed, his breath catching in his throat as he sped to reach his girlfriend. However, she had already disappeared from view before Dean could so much as blink.

"We're going down there," Dean instructed, his tone leaving no room for disagreement. Sam simply nodded and, clutching Dean's elbow, the two brothers jumped into the rabbit hole. Behind them, the ground sealed itself closed.

x-x-x

Jo landed hard on her elbow, groaning as jarring pain ricocheted through the bone. She gritted her teeth and rolled onto her side before leaping to her feet, her eyes scanning the darkness for the missing child. The room she found herself in was almost like an underground cavern, and Jo could see tunnels leading off in all directions. Muttering under her breath in irritation, she began to pursue the closest turning.

"Amy?" she hissed, keeping her voice to a minimum. 

She feared attracting the attention of the rabbit - or whatever the creature turned out to be – and she could only assume that was a situation that wouldn’t end well. As she walked, Jo slid her hand up her skirt and removed the handgun from the holster attached to her thigh. Flicking off the safety catch, Jo gripped the gun close to her side, calling out to the child again and again through the shadows. Amy did not answer, yet instead a curious sound greeted Jo's ears as she inched further along. She paused, cocking her head to listen to what sounded very much like children at play; laughter and whoops of excitement momentarily reassured her that Amy was perhaps not in any imminent danger.

"Jo?"

She wheeled around when a familiar voice echoed through the chamber. Jo was somewhat relieved to realise that both Dean and Sam were hurrying toward her, apparently less than impressed by her actions if the look on her boyfriend’s face was anything to go by.

"You wanna give me a heads up next time before you decide to vanish into a hole in the ground?" Dean snarled as he reached her side and glared at her pointedly.

"What was I supposed to do? Watch the kid disappear?" Jo spat back, narrowing her eyes to glower at him.

"Can you guys do that later?" Sam interjected, gesturing to the tunnel ahead with a tight smile. "You know, after the rescue?"

Dean shrugged at his brother apologetically and elected to ignore the glare Jo continued to direct at him as they headed toward a light source at the end of the tunnel.

"Be vewy, vewy quiet..." Dean quipped with a smirk, earning a sigh from Sam and an amused but disdainful chuckle from Jo.

No sooner had the group rounded the corner than they found themselves abruptly flung to the ground as something large and heavy barrelled into them. Dean, Jo and Sam landed in a tangled heap of limbs, Dean spluttering to catch his breath after Sam's knee landed in the pit of his stomach.

"What the..." 

Sam scrambled to his feet and hauled Jo up behind him. Dean remained on the ground, somewhat winded, and simply stared at the figure of the tall, naked woman that stood before them. Golden hair tumbled past her shoulders, helping to preserve at least a degree of her modesty. Sam immediately looked away, ever the gentleman, whilst Jo stared aghast at the figure. Her hips were wide, even matronly, but her features were delicate and indescribably beautiful.

Dean gaped for several, painfully long seconds before finally managing to locate his voice. 

"You didn't happen to see a... a big... fluffy..."

He shook his head, unable to finish his sentence as she woman smiled at him, the faint quirk of her lips withering and faintly hostile. Jo remained open mouthed. Something about the almost serene expression gracing the woman's features was unnerving, and Jo shot a look at Sam in questioning. He could only demonstrate his own ignorance as to the woman’s identity with a shrug. Dean, however, was suitably transfixed and he continued blinking dumbly up at the stranger even as Jo flung Sam's jacket at her naked body.

"Lady, you might want to cover up," Jo spat, attempting to glance past the woman towards the children barely visible over her shoulder.

"My body offends you?" The stranger frowned, gesturing to her naked form as she regarded Jo intently. 

"No," Dean replied, near instantly. "No! Us? Offended? No."

He winced as Jo slapped him hard across the back of the head.

"I asked for that," he admitted. He rubbed his head as he clambered to his feet, finally appearing to regain his senses to some degree.

"What are you?" 

Jo had grown tired of wasting time with small talk and, although she addressed the woman directly, she was preoccupied with peering over her shoulder. In the background of the natural cavern they had entered, four children played, giggling and squealing as they attempted to tag each other with varying degrees of success. However, something about the game – the children’s stilted movements and the glassy sheen to their eyes – seemed off. Jo recognised Amy immediately, and she breathed an audible sigh of relief as the realisation that they had finally located the missing victims washed over her. The kids were safe and, for once, they would not be bringing home bodies to be buried or burned. Now, all that was left to do was to kill the bad guy before delivering the children safely back to their respective parents.

"What am I?" the woman repeated, her tone and arched eyebrow conveying that she was clearly affronted by the question.

"Who are you?" Sam corrected, sensing the creature's disdain for his fellow hunter, who crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

"I am Eostre," came the reply in a syrupy sweet voice that almost made Jo gag. Certainly, it prompted her to roll her eyes and scoff loudly.

"Yeah, sorry..." Dean scratched his head and shrugged, growing similarly irritated by her elusive attitude and simpering smile as the seconds ticked by. "Who?"

Eostre's nostrils flared and it became apparent to the three hunters that a somewhat raw nerve had been touched upon.

"Who am I? Who am I?" she repeated, mockingly. "I am only the reason your miserable species has not become extinct. I am the creator of new life and the protector of maidens. It is I who brings forth new life into the world; I who grant the prayers of the infertile and the barren."

"Okay." Jo smiled tightly, gesturing back toward the children with one hand, although she was careful to keep her gun trained on Eostre. "So that was you running around in the rabbit costume? Kidnapping small children... and..."

"I am merely taking back that which I gave," Eostre snapped in her own defence.

Her smile was one of almost maternal pride as her gaze swept over the children, who appeared not to have noticed the adults congregating in the tunnel or indeed the confrontation that was occurring before them. It was eerie, and Jo was near certain that the children had been placed under some form of enchantment.

"Eostre is the Germanic goddess of the spring, new life, and fertility," Sam explained, gaze ticking to Dean and then back to the apparent god, who regarded him with a delighted grin.

"A fan!" Eostre cooed, her hands clasping together over her breast. Sam shook his head, managing to conceal his disdain impressively. The little he knew of the goddess depicted her as a maternal figure, granting fertility to those who otherwise would be childless. He could not begin to fathom why she would turn to kidnapping the lives she had, in essence, created.

"Without me, none of these beautiful, little darlings would even exist," Eostre insisted, shooting a saddened glance towards the children. "They are my best works of art, and art should be appreciated, should it not?"

"Those kids are appreciated," Jo snarled, her voice marred with disgust and her upper lip curled into a sneer. "Their parents are worried half to death about them. You had no right."

"I had every right," the goddess hissed, and within the blink of an eye she had come to stand directly in front of Jo. Eostre pushed her face into the hunter's, her green eyes flashing in warning. However, Jo refused to be cowed, aiming her gun at Eostre's chest and arching a brow as though daring the goddess to make the first move. She would undoubtedly ensure it would be her last. 

"I made them and then I gifted them to the pathetic specimens that call themselves parents. None of them were worthy. They looked at those children as gifts from above and they were thankful, but once the children grow older, science gets all the credit. It was the doctors or the drugs or the intensive therapies... creating life in a Petri dish? Who ever heard of anything so ridiculous?"

"You're Doctor Torese." Sam shook his head and winced as he suddenly recognised the glaring clue he had overlooked. "It's an anagram."

"Too obvious, you think?" 

She frowned, considering the idea before she cast a glance back towards Jo and Dean, who had moved to stand side by side.

"We're taking those kids home so step aside and nobody needs to get hurt," Dean directed. He grimaced pointedly at Sam, who seemed to be the only hunter not to have a weapon trained on the goddess. Hastily, Sam followed suit, raising his gun with a grim look, yet Eostre merely folded her arms across her chest and peered at each of the hunters she faced in turn.

"You cannot kill me," she chuckled, gesturing emphatically with her hands as she reached toward the heavens. Dean’s cheeks flushed when the motion exposed her bare chest, and he averted his gaze as though his eyeballs themselves had been scalded. 

"I have already told you, this world of yours would not continue to exist without me," she reminded them, her smile one of unabashed confidence.

"Those children belong with their parents." 

Jo grit her teeth, thoroughly bored with attempting to reason with Eostre, and keen to finally draw the situation to a close. She was dearly hoping that they would soon be entering the shooting and banishing portion of the hunt, which was arguably her favourite part. 

"And what would you know of it?" 

Eostre regarded her closely, evaluating Jo with clear derision. With a snap of her fingers, a silk robe of cornflower blue appeared to swathe the deity's figure. The colour was exquisite, succeeding in highlighting the deep, emerald green of her eyes. Eostre visibly preened as though aware of her own natural beauty.

"Alright, enough," Dean snapped, his patience fraying. His finger hovered over the trigger as he aimed the barrel of his weapon square at the centre of her chest. "Let them go."

"Now," Jo chimed in, pleased to see the goddess' smile flicker as she glowered back at them.

"Do you know how it feels to have your work ignored? To see the wonders that you create attributed to some other ridiculous invention of mankind?"

"Woman, please," Dean scoffed, "we're hunters. We save their ungrateful assess every day of the week, we avert an apocalypse at least once a year, and we've still gotta pay taxes."

Jo and Sam nodded their agreement, and Eostre cocked her head as though contemplating Dean's words. Her expression grew wistful and she huffed a hearty, dramatic sigh.

"I used to be worshipped. My praises were sung by every couple wishing for the blessing of a child and, when nature failed, I was called upon," Eostre murmured, overwhelmed by nostalgia. Her eyes seemed almost to have misted over as she reminisced about her supposed 'glory days'. Dean and Jo exchanged tired glances, whilst Sam opted to humour the goddess for the time being. He reasoned that it could hardly hurt, in the absence of another solution. 

"That must be awful," he soothed, his face a pantomime of sympathy. Eostre's head whipped in his direction and a surprised yet pleased look settled across her features.

"All I want is a little recognition," she whispered, her eyes wide and her bottom lip trembling. "Is that really so wrong?"

Jo let out a snort of laughter, which Eostre chose to ignore, instead tossing her head with an air of clear superiority. Her honey coloured mane whirled over her shoulder with the gesture, and tendrils of hair slapped Jo in the face in what was a calculated and deliberate move.

"Can we get with the shooting already?" Dean demanded, nudging Sam with his elbow to signify that he should ready his gun once more.

"Kill me and your pathetic race falls by half," Eostre sneered. "You have no idea how often I am forced to intervene. Perhaps, one day, you may have cause to call upon me."

Dean stared at her, utterly indignant, and let out a guffaw in response. Suitable words of outrage had escaped him and he could do nothing but scowl at the goddess with malevolent intent. Mildly amused by the irate expression Eostre’s insinuation provoked, Jo bit back a grin. Dean and his testosterone were both predictable creatures. 

"Hey, I don't fire blanks." He smiled at his own double-entendre then glanced down at the gun in his hand. "Let them go. I won't ask again."

Eostre yawned and her fingertips fluttered at her mouth as though she was thoroughly bored by the whole escapade. 

"I am not holding them. They may leave whenever they wish. Yet I suspect they would want to remain here, free to laugh and play and embrace the beauty of childhood, away from your cynical, cold-hearted world."

"Cynical and cold-hearted as it might be," Sam attempted, holding up his hand and holstering his gun in a placating gesture, "that's where they belong. And if you love them as much as you say you do - as much as I know you do - then you'll let them go. Their parents miss them, they love them... they prayed for them."

Dean rolled his eyes, irritated by Sam's apathy for the creature who was masquerading as a giant rabbit in order to lure small children into a hole. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him by any means.

"Why not stay on at the hospital?" Sam suggested, wincing as both Jo and Dean growled their mutual protests.

"Since when do we actively encourage practising medicine without a license?" Jo demanded in a hiss, rounding on Sam with an incredulous look that he deflected with a shrug.

"You can't deny she's effective," he argued. "We can't exactly kill her and doom half the human race to infertility."

"Yes, I'm sure your brother would like to be a father one day," Eostre quipped, shooting Dean a sober glance.

Dean laughed, although the sound was devoid of all humour, and glared at the deity. 

"You're hilarious, a real comedian."

Sam turned momentarily to Dean and shook his head, "Dude, just... don't rise to it, seriously."

"Intriguing choice of words," Eostre murmured, the faintest trace of a smirk appearing on her lips.

Dean bestowed his brother a withering glare and, clearing his throat, Sam turned to Eostre once again. A muffled giggle drew Dean's attention to his side, where Jo hid her amusement behind her free hand. Wincing, she mouthed a clearly unrepentant apology to him, which did nothing to soothe his annoyance.

"Laugh it up, Harvelle," Dean whispered, keeping a watchful eye on Eostre as she appeared to weigh up her options. "I haven't heard you complaining."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't simply kill you?" Eostre finally demanded, brows knit as she scowled at each of the hunters.

"Because you give life, you don't take it away," Sam countered. "Death goes against your nature."

"Touché," the goddess conceded, her eyes clouding with unspoken sorrow as she gazed at the children, who were immersed still in their game.

"I bet they miss their parents too," Sam said, carefully. "Let them go home. Go back to the hospital and to your work. Whether people are gracious or not, it doesn't change everything you have achieved."

The goddess sighed – a mournful sound – and stared after the four little souls she had created. Jo seized the opportunity to negotiate, having realised that the creature's ego was too enormous for simple threats to prove successful. Perhaps, she was loathed to admit, Sam's approach had been right all along.

"Why don't you ask them?" Jo suggested quietly, her tone neither challenging nor hostile.

"Fine." 

Raising her hand toward the group of children, Eostre beckoned Emma toward them. The little girl blinked rapidly, looking toward the hunters with trepidation, yet she slowly made her way over to the deity's side to peer up at them from behind wide, uncertain eyes.

"Now, my darling child, are you having fun with your friends?" 

Eostre laid her hand to the little girl's cheek and regarded her with an affection that couldn’t be easily denied. Certainly, the child did not seem at all afraid, and Jo could not help but notice the nurturing aura that the being radiated.

"When can I see Mommy?" the child lisped, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Her question was chased by a sigh that emanated from her little body and slumped her shoulders. 

Eostre closed her eyes for a moment, managing a thin smile, "You miss your parents, little one?" 

Her question more resembled a statement but Emma nodded, nonetheless. She fidgeted with the hem of her pretty, blue, party dress as she regarded Eostre, who seemed to grow marginally smaller herself at the defeat.

"Soon, you shall see them soon," the goddess promised with a kindly air and a wink. Finally, she looked up from Emma’s face to meet Jo's gaze. After a pause, Eostre's expression of sorrow melted into one of gratitude.

"I'm not a parent." Jo glanced down at the little girl and, despite the years that had passed, she found herself able to envision herself at the same age with surprising ease; there had been one person she could never have imagined being without. "But I was somebody's daughter."

"I could never hurt them," Eostre insisted, laying her hand on Emma's shoulder and squeezing it with gentle affection. "I just wanted to be needed... celebrated, again."

"You're needed," Sam said, and it almost seemed to Jo that he felt genuine sympathy for the deity, now. "And every day of those kids' lives, their parents are thankful, even if they're not entirely sure who to."

Eostre bobbed her head and, with a wave of one hand, the three remaining children ceased their game. Simultaneously, their heads whipped around the cavern, and it wasn’t long before confusion, fear and surprise dominated their features. The smaller of the children was the first to react, dissolving into hiccuping sobs that were interspersed by a babbling that none of the adults could decipher.

"I guess I should get going. Work to do and all that," Eostre commented, squaring her shoulders and tensing her jaw as she attempted to brush off the hurt that was clearly threatening to consume her. However, it appeared that she could not resist one last barb, and she quirked a brow as she demanded of Dean, "Unless, of course, you wish to shoot me, still?"

"Don't tempt me, lady," Dean muttered under his breath, eyeing the woman with disdain even as she smiled back at him. 

Although seeming poised to reply, Eostre's attention was momentarily stolen by one of the children. Amy, having instantly recognised Jo, threw her arms around the hunter's waist, and proceeded to sob and wail into the folds of Jo's dress for her mother. Jo handed her gun to Sam in order to scoop the child into her arms, all the while reassuring her in soothing tones that they were taking her right back to her mommy. Dean smirked, clearing his throat to offer up comment, which he was quickly dissuaded from by the glare Jo awarded him as she continued to rock the girl in her arms. Wisely, Dean chose to remain silent. 

"We're taking this one with us," Jo stated, leaving no room for argument. She was hopeful that Amy's mother would be none the wiser to her disappearance, and that the little girl could be deposited back in the garden alongside them.

"As you wish," Eostre sighed, her expression toward Jo softening as she observed her tender interactions with the child.

"You'll put the others back where you found them?" Dean checked, observant as Eostre lifted the smallest of the children into her arms and brushed tears from the toddler's cheeks.

"You have my word," she agreed, beginning to lead the children toward the entrance of the tunnel, with Sam, Dean and Jo tailing closely behind.

Eostre waved her hand over the wall, where a large portal materialised. The hazy landscape of the garden they had left became visible through the ether, and some of the tension ebbed from Jo’s body.

"Well, I'd like to say it's been a pleasure," Dean observed, shrugging when he found himself unable to continue the sentence. 

Jo simply shook her head and wasted no time in stepping through the portal. She cradled Amy to her chest, whispering in the child's ear in an attempt to calm her as she took long strides towards freedom and safety. Nonplussed by Dean’s evident hatred, Eostre beamed. 

"Likewise.”

"I gotta ask," Dean said, pausing, one hand massaging the back of his neck. "Why the giant rabbit get up?"

Eostre laughed; a high tinkling sound that echoed around the cavern like a thousand bells.

"Perhaps your brother can answer that for you, I must be getting the little ones home."

Eostre directed a pointed smile at the hunters before gathering the three children into the folds of her cloak and clapping her hands once. In the blink of an eye, they disappeared, leaving Sam and Dean alone in the veritable darkness. With renewed haste, the brothers scrambled through the portal to return to the garden, where they found Jo wiping tears away from Amy's cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. A smile gracing her lips, Jo leaned down to readjust the ribbon that held the child’s hair, chattering happily to her all the while. 

"You know what she was talking about?" Dean asked, his interest piqued. Though Sam was the undeniable brains of the Winchester outfit, he loathed not understanding even the smallest aspect of a case.

"The story goes that Eostre found a wounded bird that couldn't fly anymore so, unable to heal it, she turned it into a white rabbit so it would survive the winter. The rabbit found that it could lay eggs still, and it would leave them at the beginning of spring as gifts," Sam said, watching Dean's astonished expression with amusement. "In theory, she created the Easter bunny."

"Wait, wait... that was the Easter Bunny?" His eyebrows shot up incredulously. "Son of a..."

"Dean!" 

Jo clamped her hands over Amy's ears and gestured down to the girl, who was glaring at Dean with her own brand of contempt.

"Sorry, kid." He smiled by way of apology, but his eyes were suddenly drawn to Jo as she holstered her gun, exposing the top of her thigh in the process.

"Amy, let's go find Mommy, huh?" Jo suggested, reaching out a hand to the child, who readily accepted the offer. As though nothing at all out of the ordinary had occurred, she skipped off beside the hunter in the direction of the house.

Dean strolled behind with Sam, obviously deep in thought over something or other. Sam stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow in questioning at his brother.

"Dean? You okay, dude?"

The faintest tinge of pink spread across Dean's cheeks, and he first shrugged before then clearing his throat as though in discomfort. Clearly, there was something playing on his mind, and Sam was curious to find out exactly what that could be.

"Eostre, she uh... she was just kidding back there, right?" Dean checked, a slightly worried expression overcoming his features. He did his best to undermine his concern with a chuckle, which came off sounding decidedly more nervous than he’d intended.

Sam shrugged, failing to understand Dean's somewhat cryptic question. "About?"

"You know... my... the... swim team." 

Motioning in a downwards direction, he gazed, imploring, at Sam, who choked on a burst of laughter as it bubbled up from his chest.

"Oh!" Sam shook his head as he replied with confidence, "No, man, she was messing with you. I mean, she probably knows how sensitive some guys are about that kind of thing."  
"Some guys?" Dean repeated, eyes narrowing at Sam, who hid his amusement well.

"Oh yeah, you know," Sam replied, slapping Dean on the back good naturedly before wandering off towards the yard, his grin immense, "short guys."

x-x-x

The hunters had returned to the motel, weary but in surprisingly immaculate condition. Generally speaking, hunts tended to end with all manner of blood, guts and grime adorning clothing, and at least several fresh scrapes and bruises in interesting places. Dean had to admit that, although facing down a giant rabbit had been surreal, it had had some advantages - the main one being that Jo's outfit had remained intact.

Sam had disappeared to fill up the car with gas before they began the journey back to the roadhouse, leaving Jo and Dean alone in the motel room. Whilst Jo busily packed her clothes and the various texts she had borrowed from Bobby, Dean watched with an odd expression stretching his features taut.

"You just gonna sit there and stare at me, Dean?" 

Jo tossed a stack of books into her enormous gym bag, which Dean was amused to note was hot pink. Although not typically feminine in many respects, there was a softer, more girly side that lurked beneath Jo's exterior that delighted Dean to no end. In so many ways, she reminded him of a young Mary Winchester.

Dean wondered how Jo had even known that he had been staring but he sometimes got the impression that, like her mother before her, Jo was strangely all seeing and all knowing; particularly where he was concerned.

"You know, there's this little Italian place we passed by in town," Dean suddenly announced, smiling at the confused glance Jo directed at him.

"Okay." 

She planted her hands on her hips, waiting for him to continue. When he appeared less than forthcoming with an explanation, she resumed her packing. Shrugging the cardigan from her shoulder, she tossed it on top of the gym bag and reached around to the side of her dress to lower the zip.

"Wait, just a second." 

Dean stood quickly and walked over to her, snagging the cardigan on his way. Placing his hand over hers, he gently but firmly tugged the zipper back up and adopted his best persuasive smile.

"Dean Winchester, trying to talk me into my clothes..." Jo mused aloud, looking up at Dean as if he had completely lost his mind.

"Well, I was planning on helping you out of them later," he admitted, eyes roving her body appreciatively for several seconds. However, he managed to shake himself free of his escalating daydreams to drape the cardigan around her shoulders.

"I just thought that since we're, you know, dressed up like normal people, maybe we should go do ‘normal people’ things... 'couple' things," he explained, slapping Jo's hand away as she playfully pretended to examine his head for signs of trauma.

"Dean, are you asking me out to dinner?" she checked. She was unprepared to let herself believe that he – Dean Winchester - wanted to take her on an actual, honest to goodness date.

"Well, yeah," muttered Dean, jamming his hands into the pockets of the smart, grey slacks that he had decided he did not loathe quite so much now. "We've never really done that before."

"I guess we haven't," Jo admitted. 

The realisation of that particular fact dawned on her abruptly, bringing with it a frown that contorted her features into a melancholy mask. The couple seemed to have fallen into a comfortable relationship pattern with ease, never really having required the customary 'dating' period that others did. After their showdown with Lucifer, the rebuilding of the roadhouse had consumed most of their time, leaving little to dedicate to other pursuits.

"I think I'd like that," Jo finally admonished, a sweet, almost coy smile fracturing the somewhat sad expression she had adopted. Dean reached for her hand and tugged her towards his chest, pausing to card his fingers through her hair before laying a kiss on her forehead.

"I'd like it, too," he agreed, and pressed the tip of his nose against Jo's with a grin whilst she rose on tiptoes in order to initiate a kiss. 

Dean responded hungrily, his thoughts having well and truly shifted from the hunt to much more pleasant considerations.

x-x-x

Shivering against the chill of early evening, Jo wrapped her arms around her body and peered up at the frontage of the roadhouse. A pair of arms encircled her from behind and she craned her neck to bestow an excited smile upon Dean, who stood behind her as he too stared up at the bar with mounting impatience.

"Alright, Sammy. Light her up!" Dean shouted, his eyes focused on the sign, which almost immediately flickered to life. The words 'Harvelle's Roadhouse' lit up in neon orange above the main entrance, and Jo could not contain a whoop of joy. 

Clapping her hands in delight, she spun to loop her arms around Dean's neck, hugging him exuberantly.

"You did it," Dean stated, glancing back at the roadhouse and nodding his approval.

"We did it," Jo corrected, rewarding him with a peck on the lips before Sam moved to join them, three bottles of beer in his hands.

"Shouldn't this be champagne?" Sam queried as he doled out the bottles, still cold from the fridge.

"You've seen the people who'll drink here, right?" Jo checked, one eyebrow arched. "You think I ordered any champagne, Sammy?"

With a nod of understanding and a grin, Sam muttered, "Point taken."

"So," Dean began, raising his bottle skyward and gesturing for the others to do likewise, "to the new Harvelle's Roadhouse."

"May it be as successful, as profitable, and as welcoming as the last," Sam contributed, clinking his beer bottle first against Dean’s and then Jo’s.

With a smirk, Jo finished, "And may it not be blown up, burned down, or otherwise raised to the ground."

"Amen to that," said Dean, wincing at the thought.

Holding their bottles aloft in one final gesture to the heavens, Jo, Dean and Sam each took a gulp of beer before a reflective silence descended upon the festivities. Naturally, their thoughts drifted to the woman they each owed their lives to, in one respect or another.

Eventually, Jo heaved a sigh then glanced up at the brothers. With a deep breath and a resolute smile, she vowed to make her mother proud; grateful for the chance at a future, and excited at the journey that lay before them.

"So, I guess tomorrow we throw open the doors and roll out the welcome mat," Dean murmured. His eyes locked on the sign, unwavering; the figurative final stone in their mammoth construction project.

"I guess." 

Jo shot a glance in the growing darkness at the sapling that stood to the right of the roadhouse. She faced the prospect of reopening the business with trepidation, knowing that the place would never quite feel the same without Ellen around. However, as long as the tree stood watch over the building, Jo would always feel as though some part of her mother remained by her side.

"Well, I'm gonna turn in," Sam said after a pause, stretching his arms above his head as an exaggerated yawn spilled from his lips. "Promised I'd help Bobby at the car yard tomorrow. Goodnight, guys."

To mumbled responses, Sam set off to spend his first night in his new room, deep within the living quarters of the roadhouse. It would be a strange experience for them all but in particular for Jo, who would not only be occupying the largest bedroom, but who would also be adjusting to sharing that space on a permanent basis.

"You coming?" Dean enquired, shooting Jo an understanding yet sleepy smile as he sauntered towards the entrance in Sam’s wake. A beat, and then Jo nodded, reaching out to Dean as she walked through the darkness and up the steps of the front porch.

With a final look at the sign she had once thought would never again be more than a memory, Jo Harvelle grinned and turned out the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End of Episode 1
> 
> Next Episode – 'The Female of the Species'


End file.
